


Only You

by thevalesofanduin



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Feels, M/M, Shaving, with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 10:19:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10874739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevalesofanduin/pseuds/thevalesofanduin
Summary: It’s been nothing but Jim for the past few… days, weeks, Leonard’s not sure except for the fact it’s felt like an eternity. Panic, grief, devastation and throughout it all he’s had to attempt a miracle. To save Jim’s life – reclaim it.Now all Leonard can do is idly wait for Jim to wake up.Until he sees the scruff on Jim's face and remembers the other's frustrated words that “I hate having facial hair, it itches like crazy”. And  well, he thinks, perhaps there’s something I can do.





	Only You

He sits in the chair next to the bed.

Back straight, hands clenched in his lap and eyes fixated on Jim.

_Jim, Jim, Jim_

It’s been nothing but Jim for the past few… days, weeks, Leonard’s not sure except for the fact it’s felt like an _eternity_.

Panic, grief, devastation and throughout it all he’s had to attempt a miracle. To save Jim’s life – reclaim it.

And he did it. _He did it_.

Yet now he sits next to Jim’s bed and he can’t do anything anymore. He just has to sit and wait and try to not break down and start shaking Jim’s shoulder to _wake up, damn it, just wake up!_

He needs to be patient. Knows that it can be days – _weeks_ – before Jim wakes up.

At least he’s breathing, he tells himself.

At least he’s alive and healing and recovering.

At least…

It doesn’t do much to ease his mind, though.

He wants nothing more than to see Jim smiling up at him with those laugh wrinkles at the corners of his hypnotizing blue eyes. But instead Jim’s body is motionless against the sheets, face pale, hair a mess and scruff on his chin.

 _It’s almost like he just came home from a rough night out_.

Leonard huffs softly to himself, small smile lingering on is lips as he sees Jim pouting after an away-mission where they’d been stranded on a planet for a week, hears his annoyed voice because “I hate having facial hair, it itches like crazy”.

Leonard gets up out of his chair and for a moment stands at the bed, trails the back of his hand down Jim’s cheek gently. _Well,_ he thinks, _perhaps there’s something I can do._

 

\---

 

He avoids looking at himself in the mirror the next morning – as he does every morning for there is no need to look at his own pale skin, the bags under his eyes.

Eyes that he _knows_ look like they’ve now seen the end of the world – which in a way, they have.

At least the end of _his_ world.

Instead he gathers a small kit of shaving supplies and brings it with him to Starfleet Medical.

He gives a half-hearted wave at the women at the nurse’s station on Jim’s floor and makes his way over to the now familiar room.

Before he gets there, though, the door of Jim’s room opens and Phil Boyce steps out, PADD in hand and a blank expression on his face.

No change, Leonard thinks and resists the urge to either sigh or scream.

When Leonard steps closer Phil raises his eyes from his PADD and he nods, not bothering with false smiles and niceties. “Leonard,”

“Hey Phil,” Leonard greets, just like every day. And just like every day, the words _how are you_ don’t pass his lips.

Because if there is anyone that is suffering more than he is, it is Phil.

Phil who has been nothing but dedicated and steadfast, leading his team with a strength that amazes Leonard. Backing him up when no-one wanted to even _hear_ about the serum that could hypothetically save Jim’s life. Supporting him with his research with both staff and his professional opinion. And all that while still running his own department _after_ having lost his husband.

Leonard doesn’t think he will ever respect another person as much as he does Phil for the rest of his life.

It’s almost as if the other can read his mind as a sad smile falls onto his lips. Then, Phil offers: “I found some old medical publications at home. Brought them in, in case you want to read something during the day.”

Leonard’s taken aback by the offer. Can only stare at the other man for a few moments.

Phil huffs, amused. “Just drop by my office around lunchtime.”

“Lunchtime, huh.” Leonard mumbles.

There’s a tight smile on Phil’s lips as he nods. “It’s about time we start taking care of ourselves as well, isn’t it?”

Leonard looks up then, at the man who is grieving just as he is yet at least Leonard himself has hope.

“Yea, I suppose.” He agrees with a wry smile of his own.

“Good,” Phil nods. “I’ll see you later, Leonard.” He says, kind yet resolute before he turns around and makes his way down the hallway leaving Leonard by himself, shaving-kit clenched in his hands.

 

\---

 

“Hey Jim,” he greets, as always, when he enters the room.

He makes his way over to the bed, watches the others face for a moment before turning to the screens on the wall. He watches the statistics, Jim’s vitals and he knows nothing changed but it’s disappointing to be confronted with it nonetheless.

His shoulders drop and he grimaces.

 _Soon_ , he tells himself.

_Soon_

He turns to the bed and waves the kit he’s still holding at Jim. “I’ve got a surprise for you today.”

He rolls one of the side-tables closer and puts the kit down onto it. “I’ll get some coffee and other stuff and I’ll get started.” He says and makes his way to the door, mumbling under his breath: “You look like a mess.”

 

\---

 

By the time he’s finished his coffee the bedside table is full.

A towel, a washcloth, two bowls – one with warm water, the other with cold – and the shaving kit he’d brought along. His hands are warm from the coffee cup and Leonard decides that it’s now or never.

He unlocks the PADD and searches for the music section and with the soft tones and slightly rough voice of Johnny Cash filling the room he gets started.

“Gotta do everything for you, don’t I?” He asks Jim with a shake of his head, dipping the washcloth into the warm water and wringing it out. He swipes it gently across Jim’s face, cleaning the skin and he can’t help the small smile as he remembers the other time he’d shaved Jim.

 

_“Bones?” Jim calls hesitantly from the bathroom doorway, shuffling his feet and eyes downcast._

_“Hmm?” Leonard mumbles from underneath the blankets, groggy and tired despite the fact he’s only just woken up._

_“I need some help.”_

_For a moment Leonard considers pretending he hasn’t heard Jim. It’s his morning off, damn it._

_His resolve only lasts a second._

_Then he sighs to himself, curses how wrapped around Jim’s pinky he is and sits up, blanket pooling into his lap and he squints his eyes at the light. “With?” He asks Jim, stifling a yawn._

_Jim’s standing in the doorway in his dark boxers, hair still in disarray from sleep and Leonard presses his lips together, trying not to stare. He’s either out of bed long before Jim or way after Jim and he feels as if he’s been missing out._

_Although probably if he’d see Jim like this every morning his resolve would surely snap and he’d do something he might regret._

_When he looks up at Jim’s face there’s a twinkle of something in the other’s eyes but Leonard doesn’t quite understand what it is._

_Plus, it’s gone before he can figure it out and Jim sighs, waving a hand at himself as he woefully complains: “I’m right handed, Bones. A right hand which I can’t use because of the right wrist I sprained. I need some help.”_

_With the pleading expression on his face he looks like he’s pouting and knowing Jim, Leonard decides he probably is._

_“So you want me to help you take a piss?” He asks before he can stop himself. The sarcastic words falling out of his mouth almost automatically at the nervousness and almost creepy excitement the thought of helping Jim in the bathroom brings forth – helping him shower, dear Lord have mercy._

_“Shit, Bones, no! I can take a leak by myself...” Jim flushes, waving his good hand into Leonard’s general direction. “It’s just, it’s been four days and I really need a shave…”_

_“That’s it?” Leonard asks, tries for casual and nonchalant but damn him if that doesn’t excite him more than perhaps the shower idea._

_Because shaving someone else is sitting close together, it’s being in one another’s space, it’s going to be Leonard’s fingers on Jim’s face and Jim’s breath over his cheeks and…_

_Christ, he’ll never survive this._

_But now he’s made it sound like it’s nothing, a small favour._

_Now Jim is looking at him like a happy puppy, ready for his shave._

_Fuck_

_He’s regretting it even more by the time Jim has put down the toilet-seat lid and has sat down on top of it._

_More so when he looks up at Leonard and asks: “How do you want me?”_

_Leonard fights the blush that threatens to stain his cheeks and as Jim’s eyes twinkle he thinks he must’ve failed. “Just sit still and tip your head back a bit,” he says._

_He glances at the products Jim’s put out and he raises an eyebrow at the other because he’d thought Jim’d be a just-shaving-cream kind of guy._

_Turns out he owns enough product to start his own shop._

_“You really think I wouldn’t treat this gorgeous face well, Bones?” Jim teases._

_Leonard rolls his eyes because of course, he should’ve known…_

_So he takes the mint-scented oil, lets a few drops fall down onto the palms of his hands and then he sits down on the bathtub edge, leaning forward to gently rub it into Jim’s skin._

_“Mint, huh.” He mumbles, hoping to get Jim to talk because if he doesn’t Leonard might and he’s not certain what’ll come out of his mouth at this point._

_Cause Jim’s skin is smooth and supply under the palms of his hands, the other’s breath warm against his own skin and this is both the best and the worst idea he’s ever had._

_“I like to smell nice,”_

_Leonard huffs a laugh, wipes his hands on a towel and moves on to the shaving cream. As he applies it to Jim’s face with quick strokes Jim huffs._

_“What?” Leonard asks._

_“Should’ve used the brush.” Jim complains._

_“Of course, grandpa.” Leonard rolls his eyes._

_“Hey, it’s better for your skin and it makes the hairs softer!” Jim argues._

_Leonard laughs now, shakes his head as he’s cleaned his hands and dips the razor in some water Jim’s already prepared in the sink. “Didn’t know you were a shaving snob, Jim.” He takes Jim’s chin in-between his thumb and index-finger with his left hand and silently urges Jim to tip his head back._

_Jim obeys straight away, ignoring Leonard’s comment. Instead, he says: “Try not to cut me, Bones.”_

_Leonard puts the razor against Jim’s temple, reaches out his other hand and softly pulls slightly at the skin to keep it tight and as he slowly swipes the razor down mumbles: “I have the steadiest hands in the whole fleet, Jim.”_

_Jim lets out a slow breath, his slightly reddened cheeks indicating it’s not just out of nervousness. “Just be careful.”_

_Leonard is happy Jim’s closed his eyes. Because he’s certain he must have the weirdest expression on his face that is a combination of affection, desire and concentration._

_Christ, this is killing him._

_“Well then stop fidgeting.” He huffs and swipes the razor down again._

_For a minute or so neither of them speak. It’s just their soft breaths and the sounds of the razor swiping Jim’s skin that fills the air._

_Then, as Leonard turns to clean the blades of the razor in the sink Jim speaks up._

_“It’s strangely intimate, isn’t it?”_

_Leonard’s heart skips a beat, his fingers pause in rinsing the razor for a moment and he mumbles: “Not strangely.” He then turns back to Jim and he’s happy his hand is steady when he slides the razor down Jim’s cheek again. “But intimate nonetheless.”_

_Jim breathes out a long breath through his nose and he furrows his brow yet doesn’t say anything._

_Leonard huffs and taps a finger against Jim’s chin. “Stop frowning, I need your skin smooth.” When Jim’s expression eases a bit Leonard continues shaving. “Besides, how can you be surprised at the intimacy of someone shaving you? The proximity, the trust… You willingly offer your neck to me so I can scrape it with a knife.” Leonard chuckles._

_But only a second later the meaning of his own words sinks in and he pauses, pulls back the razor and lifts his eyes to Jim’s. His heart is in his throat suddenly, his hand tight around the razor._

_The proximity, the trust…_

_It was exciting to think about doing this but knowing now that Jim’s trust for him runs this deep. “Jim…”_

_“Only you, Bones.” Jim murmurs and he lowers his chin a bit so he can look at Leonard, his good hand reaching out and his long fingers curl around Leonard’s wrist. He smiles then, the sun on his face and the stars in his eyes. “Only you.”_

 

“Only you,” Leonard mumbles to himself and caresses the line of Jim’s jaw.

The music jumping to the next song in Leonard’s _Jim’s favorites_ playlist puts him back into action. He puts away the towel and takes the shaving oil from the table, letting some drops fall onto his hands and spreading it onto his palms before softly massaging it against Jim’s skin. “I’ll do it properly this time, too.” He mumbles. “Even brought you a brush.”

He continues, applying the shaving cream _with_ brush and then he picks up the razor. He dips it in the cold water first before he takes Jim’s chin in-between his fingers again, smoothening the skin. “At least this time I don’t have to tell you to stop frowning,” he jokes halfheartedly, heart clenching at his own words.

He’s quick and efficient this time.

He doesn’t take his time, doesn’t linger because there’s no reactions to draw from Jim.

Not this time.

When he’s done shaving he picks up the comb he brought and brushes Jim’s hair back into its normal hairstyle.

“There,” he mumbles when he’s done, eyes resting heavily on Jim. “All ready to face the world now.”

 

\---

 

The next morning he goes out and buys replacements for Jim’s own shaving supplies.

A cool-mint scented pre-shave oil, an organic shaving cream and he gets a new brush as well because he can’t resist the dark, oak handle and he thinks Jim will appreciate it too.

So when, a few days later, he uses the new things he got for Jim.

It’s a bad idea.

The moment he smells the mint he’s reminded of that one morning.

Both with morning hair and morning breath, Jim on the toilet and him on the bathtub edge. Jim’s breath over his skin, his soft huffs, his comments.

This time when he shaves, his hand holds the razor just a tad bit tighter.

When he’s done and has put away the supplies he picks up one of the magazines Phil lend him.

They meet for lunch every other day now. They don’t talk much but Leonard finds it comforting nonetheless.

He studies the front of the magazine for a moment and takes a sip of his coffee. Then he turns amused eyes to Jim, mumbling: “If I read this whole thing to you, would you wake up just to tell me to shut up?”

 

\---

 

“Your mom called yesterday.” Leonard tells Jim, eyes on the other’s skin as he slowly sweeps the razor down. “She’s worried that you won’t wake up.”

He frowns slightly, fingers tight around the razor’s handle. He still shaves with expert precision and a steady hand but that doesn’t change the fact it’s like he’s holding on for dear life.

As if squeezing the life out of the razor will breathe it back into Jim.

“Nyota’s said the same.” He mumbles, turning towards the table to rinse the razor in the water bowl.

He thinks back to nights spent on the couch, tired yet restless with Nyota’s hand on his shoulder while Spock kept vigil from the chair next to it. “Len,” her voice soft, hesitant. Careful. “Have you considered that he might… not wake up?”

Spock’s silence a testament of his agreement with her words.

He’d left that night with clenched fists and a set jaw, screaming and crying his grief into his pillow.

He swallows, throat feeling thick, constricted and his eyes remain on the water even though he’s let the razor slip from his grip. “Everyone thinks so.”

He turns his chair, faces Jim and brings a hand up to Jim’s face, hovers it just above the other’s skin. “Not me, though, Jim.” He promises. “Not me.”

His hands fall down to the blankets, clenching into tight fists and Leonard’s voice hitches, his breath stutters and his eyes water as he mumbles: “You’ll wake up, I’m sure of it.”

A soft sob passes his lips as he bows his head.

“You have to.”

 

\---

 

His knuckles white, his hands clenched into fists even after he’s put away the shaving supplies.

He stares out of the window, magazines forgotten and coffee gone cold long ago.

“I don’t know if I can do this much longer, Jim.”

As always, there is no reply.

 

\---

 

“Wake up, Jim. _Please,_ just wake up,”

 

\---

 

And then, when Jim finally wakes and looks up at Leonard with those haunting yet stunning blue eyes that are _alive_ , Leonard finds that his fists finally unclench and he can breathe again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://thevalesofanduin.tumblr.com/) <3


End file.
